YoTS: Lord January ~ 21!

CHAPTER 21

Grant tried to turn himself inward, to get into the state that Sarge had told him would benefit his training the most. It was hard, and the heat of the furnaces was almost unbearable; but at least he had somewhere to train. Suspended walkways littered this section of the steelworks, and liquid metal was being poured into crucibles by sweaty, hard working men. They didn’t pay any notice to Grant, focused on their demanding tasks.

He opened up his character sheet to go to the training tab. While he was there, he glanced at his stats.

Name: Grant Monday

Class: Wielder

Cultivation Achievement Level: 5

Cultivation Time: 63:00 Hours (Time to Next Level 937:00 Hours)

Cultivation Stage: Mid Spring

Inherent Abilities: Swirling Seasons Cultivation

Health: 95/95

Mana: 3/3

Characteristics

Physical: 30

Mental: 9

Armor Proficiency: 12

Weapon Proficiency: 23

“Levelled up to cultivation achievement level five after killing a giant rat, and… oh! I got all the way to Mid Spring cultivation? How...?” Grant flicked to the training tab, and read over the waiting information.

Training Session: Physical and Weapon Cultivation – Timed Assault Course Challenge.

Information: Use your newly forged weapon skills and fitness to beat the course in under 5 minutes to finish today’s training. Next training session is locked until the assault course challenge is successfully completed.

Reward: Complete the challenge in 4 minutes or less to obtain a 20% bonus to Physical and Weapon Cultivation for 24 hours.

“Five minutes, four if I want to get the bonus? I can do that. Good to know that this will be a fast session.” Unlike his previous training, the background didn’t fade away into mist. Instead, additional platforms, walls, obstacles, and combatants appeared to block his path. They held a variety of weapons, sharpness being the only thing they had in common. The countdown began, and he tensed up.

3… 2… 1… Go!

A five-minute timer started counting down, then flew off to float in midair; visible whenever he looked up. February Twenty Nine freed from the leather scabbard, Grant dodged past the first dummy, narrowly avoiding its sword. He didn’t have time to waste if he wanted to complete the course in under five minutes. He planned to avoid every enemy he couldn’t kill quickly, but he’d have to watch his back much more closely.

Grant’s plans fell to shambles in an instant. The path ahead was blocked by a knight holding a tower shield. The immense shield was around five feet tall, and completely blocked the way forward. He attacked the knight hiding behind the shield, but every swing was intercepted and turned to side by the sheet of metal. A polearm poked out in an attempt to skewer Grant, and he barely dodged the unexpected attack by throwing himself back.

Tick, tick, tick.

The timer was quickly and loudly counting down. Grant had already wasted thirty seconds trying to get past a single enemy, and he still had many obstacles to pass. Looking around wildly, a chain swaying to his left caught his attention. It dawned on him that he could use it to climb past the tower shield and knight, in fact skipping nearly half of the trial!

He jumped at the hanging metal, using it to pull himself slowly and painfully higher and higher. Grant’s physical training was finally showing its worth as he heaved his bulk up the thick chain. It took a full minute to reach the top, and he was breathing as loudly as the bellows at the front of the workshop; but at least he was almost at the end. He checked the timer, grinning as he realized that there were over two full minutes remaining!

As he started to pull himself over the edge, a dummy leaned over and showed a scarecrow grin to him. The dummy faces usually had only clumsy caricatures of features, but this one was apparently intentionally endowed with a cruel smile. Try as he might, Grant couldn’t both swing at the dummy and hold on to the chain at the same time. It took its time, reaching over to the side before pulling a lever. A loud *thunk* sounded and a bucket tipped over.

“Oh, feces!” Grant only had a moment to see the searing liquid before molten iron engulfed him. The excruciating pain was thankfully brief; his nerve endings were incinerated almost instantly. Sight returned shortly thereafter, and he found himself flat on his back at the start once of the course once again. A brief and panicked test showed him that all his fingers and limbs were fully functioning, if sore and tired from the intense exercise he had just done. Even so, Grant leaned to the side and puked at the memory of what had just happened. “Got it. I’ll not be taking the shortcut. Just… just give me time to-.”

The most important time to train is when you don’t want to do it!

3… 2… 1… Go!

“Oh, come on.” With no time to waste, Grant sprinted forward, sword in hand. His body was whole, but fatigue was already starting to accumulate. He dodged the first enemy and attempted to squeeze past the right of the tower shield. The massive shield scraped along the ground, blocking his path. Anticipating this move, Grant deftly sidestepped and twirled left before darting forward; slicing a backhand swipe at the dummy knight as he got through.

The knight wasn’t able to reverse course with the heavy shield in time, but the attack was more to vent his anger than it was to deal any damage: Grant needed to continue running.

The timer ticked down–in fact he could have sworn that he saw it speed up–but he did his best to ignore it. The Wielder ran up the steps and along a suspended walkway, and finding a wide gap to blocking his path. Difficult even at the best of times, but here molten metal sluiced between the platforms every ten seconds. This was a waterfall that Grant didn’t intend to jump into, through, or even near. Not after his last experience with liquid metal.

He was breathing heavily, and sweat was pouring off him. Grant’s eyes stung from the heat of the furnaces as he watched the pattern a couple of times to make sure that it repeated exactly the same each time. Confidence built, he sprinted forward and took a leap of faith. Grant could see the bubbling metal far below, and above him was the telltale sign of the swinging bucket ready to pour out its fiery contents. He reached the other side and stumbled; almost losing his balance and falling backward into the stream of death.

Grant’s heart hammered and his pants became gasps… but he couldn’t rest. Three dummies were waiting for him, their swords glowing in the reflected light of the molten metal. He ran with his sword held high in an offensive pose, screaming at his foe; who raised its sword in defense. Feinting with his sword, he bought his knee into its middle. The dummy bent over in apparent pain, disappearing when Grant ran February Twenty Nine through its torso.

“Two to go, and one platform to jump before the end.” The other dummies wouldn’t fall for the same trick. They held their blades in a defensive posture, waiting for Grant to come to them.

February Twenty Nine flashed through the air to engage the left target. Blade bounced off blade, sparks joining the inferno below.

Forty-five seconds remaining.

Grant started to panic; he had to hurry up. He fought furiously against the left dummy, making no progress apart from tiring his already screaming muscles further. The right target - slightly behind the left on the narrow platform - tried to get a hit in, managing to score a glancing strike against his shin. Grant winced at the pain, but remained focused.

Pretending that he was about to retreat, he turned around. The left dummy stepped forward to chase after him, and was greeted by Grant’s blade through its chest as he reversed his grip on February Twenty Nine. “Twenty-five seconds!”

He turned and shuffled at the remaining target. It swung its blade, expecting Grant to meet it head on. It was in for a surprise. Grant dropped onto his butt and slid past the surprised dummy, swinging up and eviscerating it on his way past. “All targets down and… fifteen seconds remaining. Go!”

Using the last of his energy to hobble run towards the glowing green checkered flag, he muttered, “Just one… last jump… to go!”

At this point, he couldn’t care less about the cultivation bonus. He just wanted to finish the course and collapse. Grant leapt into the air. There was no molten metal to worry about, meaning he was going to make it across the line with five seconds to spare!

Grant didn’t see the volley of arrows that skewered him in the back; he could only focus on the bloody arrowhead that penetrated through his neck. The timer ticked to zero, and the welcoming goal flashed red.

His eyes closed in defeat as the world faded to black… then flashed open only to be greeted by the now-familiar and somewhat hated timer. It started right away, not even giving his screaming muscles a second’s rest from the torture.

Grant’s sword-wielding antics were drawing an ever-larger crowd that pointed and laughed at the crazy guy wildly jumping and swinging a rusty blade. The steelworkers had stopped what they were doing and were watching Grant’s crazy training session. They gossiped like fishwives, unable to understand what he was doing and - more importantly - why he wasn’t giving up. Each time he failed, he would get a blank look on his face and walk like a golem back to the starting point before sighing dramatically and starting again.

He wished he could give up. Grant wanted nothing more, but he would be unable to progress in his training until he had passed this grueling test. Despite bone-tired muscles, his times were improving. He was down to just under a minute remaining before he was peppered with arrows. It didn’t matter how fast he ran, or if he tried swatting them away with February Twenty Nine, at least one always got him.

Dying once more, Grant found a hidden well of anger and determination deep within. He would not give up. On his previous run, he saw the dummy that fired the volley of arrows; learning that it fired three simultaneously. As angry as it made him to have to find a way to get past it, Grant tried to find a way to look at the situation positively. “It could be worse, there could have been three archers. Wait… that’s the answer!”

The timer began, and he efficiently dodged and dispatched targets, then vaulted the fountain of fiery death. Rather than killing the final dummy like he did on previous attempts, he chopped off the hand wielding its sword. The handless body disappeared, leaving behind its sword.

Quickly thrusting February Twenty Nine Into its scabbard, he took a deep breath and aimed. He had the archer in his sights. Releasing all his pent-up rage, Grant launched the sword at the final archer. It missed.

Wait! No! It flew true, impaling a surprised archer as it awaited its opportunity to procedurally generate holes in Grant. The Wielder didn’t want to risk throwing February Twenty Nine, both for fear of his sword dropping into a vat of bubbling metal, or worse; losing his progress on the course.

He vaulted the final gap and hobbled through the gate marking the end of the course. The timer stopped at one minute… and two seconds! Not only had he completed the trial, but he’d achieved the optional cultivation bonus; coming in under four minutes!

Training Session Challenge Complete: Congratulations. 1:02 remaining. Future training sessions unlocked. For completing the course in under 4 minutes, a 20% cultivation bonus will apply to both Physical and Weapon cultivation for the next 24 hours!

Grant was laughing and crying as he dropped his limp body onto the suspended platform. It was only then that he became aware of the churning mass of cheering people below. He thought there were a few watching him train, but now every inch of the floor between the red-hot furnaces held a steelworker excitedly discussing the spectacle they had witnessed. No one was laughing at Grant. Instead, he found that he was the center of attention for his efforts… he was being praised.

For the first time in his life, he looked at a crowd of people that were looking at him with envy and admiration. It was amazing, and fed a part of him that he had no idea needed sustenance.

Grant was going to chase this feeling.